


A series of unlikely events

by Pseudonymous_Entity



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 09:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16616531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pseudonymous_Entity/pseuds/Pseudonymous_Entity
Summary: While running through the Ministry in their attempts to avoid Death Eaters something went terribly wrong. Fortunately, Harry is nothing if not resilient.Inexplicably in the past? Your adversary is now your classmate? Sorted into Slytherin? Bring it on. Harry Potter has totally got this.Series of one shots detailing Harry's misadventures in the past.





	1. Opportunity

Harry had -after a long and drawn out panic attack in the Room of Requirement- decided to roll with it. 'It' being his current predicament.

Now, Harry wasn't a stranger to unusual and unlikely things happening, so in an odd and convoluted way, it was only a matter of time until something like this happened to him. 'This' here meaning running through the Department of Mysteries one moment and spontaneously finding himself in the past the next. Not just any past. Not an hour earlier or a day or a month. He was in the 1940s.

Even better? After being checked out by the Unspeakables and sent to Hogwarts under a false identity and a vow of secrecy, Harry had marginally relaxed. Then he was sorted into Slytherin -which okay he could sorta see coming- and when he sat down at the table he looked up to see none other than Tom Marvelo Riddle examining him from across the table. Only y'know like corporeal and alive and stuff.

Harry, like the incredibly brave and noble Gryffindor he totally was, had fled to the room of requirement in the hopes of panicking himself to death. Or at least that's what his body had proceeded to attempt to do. Instead, he'd come into this eerie calm acceptance. So what? Harry thought. Life threw giant piece of crap after giant piece of crap at him all the time. And now? Not his job. There was no prophecy -not that Harry knew what it said- and there was no Voldemort. Only a fifteen-year-old.

Most important of all, there was no Boy Who Lived.

So Harry said screw it. Until someone in the future fixed this he was going to enjoy himself in the past by doing the exact opposite of what Dumbledore would expect of him. Because Dumbledore was currently his least favourite person. And because Harry felt like being petty and spiteful, because he was fifteen, irritated, stressed the Hell out and lacked adult supervision. So there.

Harry waltzed into his first class the next morning, picked a seat at random and sat with his feet kicked up on the desk. He ignored the looks he got from most of his classmates as they filled in, though he made certain to shoot Riddle a giant toothy grin as he passed with a raised brow. Harry spent most of the class time whistling to himself and pretending to read a randomly chosen course book upside down. He thought it might have been Transfiguration.

The professor, some wizard with short blonde hair that Harry didn't know the name of, was apparently answering the question of another classmate.

"There's certainly nothing wrong with gaining inspiration for career ambitions" -Ahh yes, career talk- "From those closer to home. Our family and friends. Mr Jameson?" The teacher's tone was hopefull. But then, he had bee trying to get Harry to aprticipate and Harry had been pretending not to hear him.

Harry cocked his head. "Yes, sir?"

"Who is your favourite family member?" The teacher asked, with a pleased expression.

Without missing a beat Harry said, "My great aunt Calpurnia." A wide grin blooming over his face as an idea, a horrible idea, came to him.

His teacher nodded thoughtfully, perhaps thinking of any witches he might have heard by that name. "And what is she known for in the family?" A few of his classmates sat up straighter to get a better look. Curious about their 'transfer' student.

"Being burned at alive -twice and then hanged- in the 1700s. The story goes she set up great wicked bonfires and wild dances in the town square every night, bewitched the minister and enslaved the townspeople." There was an uneasy silence.

"Really?" Whispered the teacher, clutching his chest.

Harry nodded seriously. "Oh yes, but don't worry. My parents insisted I get a proper education first before I go about enslaving people. I totally have my priorities in check." Harry reassured.

"Anyone else want to share? Rosier?" His teacher asked, voice oddly high.

A boy with dark tight curls shook his head. "Honestly professor, I haven't got anything that can beat that."

"Anyone related to Grindelwald?" Suggested another student. A witch with long blonde hair and repressed smirk. "He's trying to enslave the world."

People snickered, some startled laughs filteres inbetween at the student's audacity.

"Technically he's just intimidating people into at least pretending to support him out of fear," Harry said as if he were an expert and not at all making this up as he went. "My aunt's followers were one hundred percent devoted. No curses, no threats needed. They'd have died for her out of their own free will. That's the sort of 'enslavement' she engineered. That is a true talent. Getting people to fall in love with you without having to devote any of yourself in return. The entire town committed mass suicide after she was finally killed." Harry informed them quietly, his face a mixture of sorrow and awe. "Did I mention? They lost the will to live."

"I think that's enough for today..." Said his teacher.

"Pity," Came a smooth voice to the left and back from Harry. He turned his head to meet the gleaming violet eyes of Riddle. "I was so hoping to hear more about his sociopathic ambitions."

Harry swung his legs down and sat up on his desk, kicking his feet, facing Riddle. "Ruling the world doesn't require sociopathy." Harry corrected. "But if it helps...who am I to judge?"

Riddle opened his mouth to say something to that.

"And that's it! Class dismissed!" Declared the teacher. Poor bloke had finally had enough. Harry didn't think he'd be willingly calling on him again anytime soon.

The class collectively moaned and hissed boos. Harry stood up on his seat and took a low overdramatic bow. "I'll be here all week!"

Rosier sidled up to Harry, tight dark curls glistening. Some sort of magical product keeping them that way. Or at least Harry assumed. Maybe he was born with super shiny hair. Rosier looked up at him from where he stood on the floor with one hand on the strap of his bookbag. "Just the week?"

Harry hopped from the chair and shrugged. "Or maybe even just today. Who knows?" He kicked in his chair and pulled on his own bookbag over his shoulder. "Life is strange. Things happen." Merlin did they ever. He collected his book and turned to the aisle. Several Slytherin students were standing there looking at him.

A nameless student stared at Harry. "You are so odd."

"Thank you!" Harry exclaimed, sending the student a beaming smile that left them sort of dazed.

Then those students straightened up and adopted more serious expressions. From behind a voice said, "Idiot." Harry swept around to look at Riddle, widening his eyes as if severely emotionally wounded, which got him a snort from an incredulous Rosier.

"Were you not entertained?" Harry inquired. The others were silent, looking between him and Riddle. Apparently Riddle had managed to become a mini-leader amongst his peers already. Harry really had no timeline for when that would have happened. Riddle appraised him while they watched, a very tiny upward pull of his lips appeared with a short roll of his violet eyes. Reluctantly amused, Harry interpreted.

"You're still an idiot." Said Riddle.

Harry decided that must be some sort of compliment in Riddle Speak, because the miniature Dark Lord sat beside Harry the rest of the day.


	2. Daring

One of the main things Harry enjoyed about this whole experience was being able to act however he wanted, even with Riddle, and get away with it. None of them knew him or his family and as far as they knew this was Harry's natural state of being and thus they had no reference point for what was normal. For what was a joke or borderline serious. He especially enjoyed threatening Riddle and the other Slytherins and getting away with it.

When people thought you were a bit off, a bit mad, they let you get away with all sorts of things. For example?

Three days after Harry sorted into Slytherin and two days after he'd traumatized his History teacher -that was Binns! He was alive!- Harry's newfound Devil-May-Care attitude reached new, far more daring, heights.

Harry was walking toward the Slytherin common room, which he remembered from second year. None of his classmates had questioned how he was able to find his way about the castle yet. Or perhaps they wondered about it aloud when Harry was not around. It wasn't as if he spent all of his waking hours with them. He rather enjoyed the considering, wary glances he received after being gone for hours on end and then returning to the common room with no explanation for his whereabouts. Slytherins were fun. Who knew?

To his left Riddle walked alongside him, eyes sweeping over a book he held up with one hand. Harry thought he must have done this a lot in his years at Hogwarts because he never needed anyone to warn him about other people in his way or when to turn. The other Slytherins were behind them clustered in their various groups. Those who associated themselves with Riddle were, of course, closer to them than the others.

In front of them at the other end of the hallway, Harry spotted two second-year students who had taken the swords from two of the suits of armor decorating either side of the hallway, and were pretending to battle one another. Badly. Harry had seen his fair share of movies -stolen and watched on an always breaking telly at night while locked in his room over the summer- and he knew that this was not how sword fighting was done. The didn't even seem to be aiming.

He was bored already, why not entertain himself?

Harry walked up to them and snatched one of the swords with a disgust playing over his features. "Honestly! Haven't you ever slaughtered anyone? What even is this?" He mimicked the windmill-like motion one of them had been using.

"They're only children." Riddle admonished.

Harry glanced over his shoulder to see amused violet eyes watching him over a book.

"As if that's a worthy excuse." He turned back to the second years who were looking between Harry, Riddle and the approaching Slytherins with trepidation. "Aim for a major artery at least." He pointed out the few he knew on the unarmed second year. He didn't seem thrilled about it.

Or even.." He turned and waltzed over to Riddle who had stopped a few feet away. He allowed Harry to approach him and set the flat of sword against his neck, though his body was held stiff and his eyes narrowed. "The Jugular. A fantastic spray of blood from that. Especially lovely if you opponent happens to have pale skin. Luckily most of the purebloods seem to have pale skin available."  
This darkly humourous and flippant persona was absolutely amazing to play around in, Harry decided. Though Hermione would be appalled.

"You frightening them," Riddle informed him mildly.

Harry twisted to look back at the second years. "Am I? Oh, my." A thought popped into his head and a wicked grin threatened to overtake his face. he ignored the suspicion this around in Riddle.

Turning way he walked back toward the younger students, swinging the sword idly. He bent down and put a hand beside his mouth, speaking n a stage whisper. "There now, they've paid no attention at all to you and instead I shall be the subject of their ire. Slytherins are easily distracted you see, if one knows what they are doing."

He handed the swiped sword back tot he unarmed -and gobsmacked- student. "Go now, before they remember you're here."  
Their looks of fear had turned to admiration seconds. The Hufflepuffs thanked him profusely then scurried down the hall away from the horrible Slytherins. Harry nodded at their backs and twirled around on his feet to meet the faces of his classmates.

"He nearly slit Riddle's throat yet he's managed to become the hero of Hufflepuffs everywhere." Rosier drawled.

Harry shrugged unrepentantly and followed alongside Riddle as they continued on their way to the common room.

"And this I clothe my naked villainy with odd old ends stol'n out of holy writ, and seem a saint, when most I play the Devil." Quoted Harry as they walked.

"Was that Shakespeare?" Riddle's gaze was fixed on him again.

Harry shook his head. It was only something he'd heard Hermione say once and he didn't remember any more of it than that.

"I have no idea."

"Ominous, isn't he?" Rosier taunted just as the wall slid to the side and they walked into the cool air of the Slytherin common room.


	3. Challenge Accepted

"I'm bored," Harry announced.

He, and the group of Slytherins Riddle deigned to be with most often, were gathered around the dying embers of the fireplace. The common room was long since deserted of other inhabitants. It was a Friday night before a Hogsmeade weekend and everyone else had retreated to the dorms, discussing their various plans, or gone to sleep. Next to him -as had become usual at some point though Harry wasn't sure when- Riddle glanced at him.

"The sky is blue." He deadpanned.

Harry kicked his legs over the arm of the couch and let the rest of his body fall into Riddle's lap dramatically. "Entertain meee." He whined.

Violet eyes rolled and Harry was unceremoniously shoved on to the floor.

"Go play with your minions," Rosier suggested. Which is what they had taken to calling the first and second-year Hufflepuffs. Ever since the sword fighting incident, he'd become the house's unofficial hero. Or mascot. Or patron saint.

Lestrange moved a piece on the chessboard between him and Avery. "He played with them earlier. When Jameson was gone for two hours after lunch? I heard from a reliable source he was seen in a courtyard reading to a bunch of puffs."

"Holding study sessions?" Avery asked.

Harry thought back on his minion's introduction to The Art of War, which in his opinion the little Hufflepuffs could seriously use. "Something like that."

"You never manage to say that innocently," Lestrange commented.

Harry shrugged, putting his arms under his head. He watched them go about their activities for twenty minutes more before boredom once again set in. He made annoyed whining noises and flopped about on the floor.

Lestrange shoved the chess board aside with an aggravated growl. "Will you please find something to do with yourself, Jameson?"

"There's nothing to do," Harry complained.

"Sure there is." Said Avery. His eyes were set on the knocked over pieces, an annoyed frown in place. "Go for a walk in the Forbidden Forest. Rummage through the caretaker's office. Disorganize the forbidden section of the library." He rattled off, sarcastically. "I'm sure you can find something."

But Harry was already scrambling to his feet. "A late night unsanctioned stroll through the castle you say?" He tapped a finger against his chin.

"You're going to get caught," Rosier warned in a sing-song voice.

Harry twirled around and walked backward toward the common room secret entrance. He tilted his head, scrunched his brows, and swallowed loudly. "G-gee professor." He exclaimed to an invisible person. "I'm sorry. You see, some of my housemates-"

Avery's smirk vanished. "He wouldn't."

"-and I didn't know they were tricking me. I don't understand, I've been trying so hard to fit in..."

"Oh, he would." Said Lestrange, lowly.

Riddle looked up from some book he was reading filled with jibberish only geniuses understood. "Not to brag, but I am generally looked upon rather well. I'm not sure anyone would believe you if you tried to tarnish my good name."

Harry turned to him with a sharp gleam in his green eyes. "I bet we know at least one person who would."

Ten minutes later, Riddle, Avery, Lestrange, and Rosier followed along behind Harry in the deserted hallways. Once again it wasn't lost on Harry that not one of them questioned how he knew his way around so well. It had to be something they were dying to know. Their self-restraint was sort of admirable. As long as Harry didn't think about their descendants too much.

Harry slowed as they came to an intersection of wider hallways that was used more often than others. He looked about carefully, eyes taking in the outlines of the objects around them, searching for any shadows that moved or sounds that were suspicious.

"What are we looking for?" Avery whispered.

Harry scuttled forward silently, in a smooth matter only Riddle came close to mirroring. He paused and turned his back to the opposite wall, eyes scanning before he motioned them to follow him. "It wouldn't do to run into anyone who would cut our fun short." Said Harry, frowning and widening his eyes. Pouting. "And we wouldn't want any especially suspicious or clever individuals to happen upon our little outing. Would we?"

Harry could feel the scowls at his back as he turned and continued forward. Went he was sufficiently sure the others were a little on edge now -thinking of the different ways they could get caught and what their parents might have to say about it- Harry started being careless. Striding along, saluting the suits of armor they passed and even flirting with the portraits. Behind him came the now familiar sounds of Lestrange's long-suffering sigh, Rosier's amused snort, and Riddle's murmur of 'idiot'.

"Careful," Harry admonished shooting them an unrepentant smile over his shoulder. "We wouldn't want that suspicious Transfiguration Professor of yours to catch us before we stumble upon a secret chamber full of untold treasure and equally untold trouble."

A long-fingered hand reached out to grasp the handle of one of the library doors before Harry could. Harry paused and looked up to be narrowed violet eyes. "Untold treasure?" Riddle questioned.

Harry put his hand on the other door and opened it, grinning. "You gotta put some positive vibes out into the universe Riddle. Which would you rather? Treasure or the remains of a too curious Ravenclaw?" He walked in and made a bee-line toward the forbidden section.

"Why the remains of a Ravenclaw?" Asked Avery.

Rosier raised a brow. "Would you prefer a Slytherin?"

"Hufflepuff surely." Put in Lestrange.

They spent the next few hours perusing the tomes on various topics that they weren't normally given access to. At some point he and Riddle found themselves looking at the same kind of books. The violet-eyed Slytherin paused in his reading to look at Harry.

"It doesn't escape me that you were on the lookout for the very same individual you threatened me with to get me here."

Harry snatched a book from one of Riddle's piles and glanced through the index.

"I never claimed to be consistent."


	4. Rumours

Harry wondered if Riddle had never had someone he could be himself around before.

He wondered this for many reasons. First of all, he'd always thought his little gothic groupies knew exactly what their leader was like and followed after him anyway. Apparently, this was not the case. Even when amongst his 'friends' Riddle had some polish shining brightly. The polish was transparent, the others saw glimpses through it time to time, but he never dropped the facade around them.

So maybe that was why he'd sort of begun to stick to Harry like glue. Odd Harry Jameson who never so much as blinked an eye when his mask slipped. Strange Harry Jameson who found his little comments amusing rather than intimidating. After all, it had to be tiresome to pretend all of the time. Then again Harry wondered what it said about his own persona that someone like Tom Riddle felt drawn to him.

Harry tried very carefully not to remember that once, when he was just Harry talking to a diary that was just Tom, they'd been drawn to one another anyway. Denial was an amazingly useful coping mechanism.

Whatever Riddle's reasoning, the Slytherin had taken an interest in Harry beyond that which he paid to his wannabe followers. These attentions came with benefits and some not so pleasant side effects. Case and point?

"No, that tie. That one there." Harry blinked down at the dark blue tie a long finger was pointing to. He put it on without bothering to argue. Last time he'd done so Riddle had taken great pleasure in explaining why he was right in the most dreadfully boring way possible. He'd done so exacttly because everyone knew how much Harry Jameson hated being bored.

"Polish your shoes."

Harry knelt down, drew out his second pair -you have two pairs and you alternate every other day, didn't your parents teach you anything?- and dutifully polished them. They were really fine but adding extra polish wouldn't hurt them. Harry thought Riddle had simply become accustomed to bossing him around at this point.

He turned to find violet eyes looking him over critically. "Will you please comb your hair for once?"

"Leave my hair out of this ya megalomaniac!" He huffed and crossed his arms.

Riddle blinked. Then his eyes narrowed and a small smirk pulled at his lips. "You don't know how to fix it, do you?"

"I do not," Harry admitted.

When he was finally released from the controlling Slytherin's clutches Harry made his way down to breakfast on his own. Riddle said he had something he needed to take care of and honestly Harry didn't need to know whether there were students tied up and hidden about the dorm for Riddle to practice Dark Arts on. He'd much prefer to live on in peaceful ignorance.

Entering the great hall Harry paused and surveyed the room as was customary for him. He liked to pick out who he was going to pick on that day. 'Pick on' here means focus his odd mannerisms on. While it was still great fun to do so with his housemates, he needed to practice on others lest his housemates become desensitized. Then what would Harry do for fun?

He took his seat which was across from Rosier and Lestrange and one down from Avery, Knott and a witch with long blond hair gathered into a ponytail. On his other side was an empty seat reserved for Riddle. Harry didn't know when this had become the norm, only that it now had and he didn't much mind the arrangement.

"I do wish," Drawled Rosier, examining his water goblet idly, "That you wouldn't look at people like you're considering how best to eat them."

Harry felt his lips pulling into a smile involuntarily. Rosier was probably his favourite. He put a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Mother was very strict on that point, no devouring the students! I do tend to keep my word you know. I have self-control."

Rosier's dark blue eyes rose to meet Harry's. He leant back and clucked his teeth and gave a pretend sigh. "Most parents warn their children not to talk to strangers. Jameson's have to warn him not to eat them." Rosier shook his head in faux disappointment.

A few seats down from him a wizard Harry didn't know leant toward another wizard he didn't know and whispered, "Is he kidding?"

NPC 2 -or so Harry named the second wizard in his head- looked rather pale. "Merlin I hope so."

"Talking about me?" Riddle slid into the seat beside Harry. Ever since Harry had sarcastically referred to him as Merlin, Riddle had made little jests now and then calling himself Merlin or Salazar or some other great person. He took too much of a liking to it for it not to be the tiniest bit narcissistic on his part.

Harry pointed at Riddle with his fork. "Now he is someone whose word you should always find suspect."

Riddle glanced up at Harry then back down to his plate. "I resent that."

"Yet he doesn't deny it."

When Harry looked up a moment later to get an apple he found Rosier and Lestrange looking at him. "Yes?"

"Nice tie." Said, Lestrange. "And your hair looks good today."

Harry's eyes flicked down to the tie and then back up to the two Slytherins. "Thanks?"

"Riddle pick it out?" Rosier questioned, his eyes were on his nails as if he couldn't actually care less.

"Yes." Said, Harry. Beside him, he felt Riddle's movements slow down to indicate he was listening as well.

Without looking away from the nails on his right hand Rosier held his left out palm up in front of Lestrange. Lestrange scowled, pulled a coin from his pocket and set it in Rosier's waiting hand. Rosier held it up to the light. "Just in time for Hogsmeade. How fortunate it."


End file.
